Starting dialysis with a brand‑new fistula is no small thing. The first few times can feel like a battle. You can feel the fistula under your skin — the pulse, the pressure — and you line up the needle with confidence. You go in… and nothing. No flashback. No blood flow. Just confusion.So you adjust.
You angle.
You try again.
Still nothing.A new fistula is unpredictable. Its diameter hasn’t fully developed, and it can shift or roll under the skin. Even when you’re right on top of it, it can slip away like a moving target. You try a new needle, a new spot, a tighter tourniquet — and sometimes you still miss.And that’s normal.When a fistula is fresh, even the surgeon can’t tell you exactly where the vein will settle for a few weeks, sometimes a month. While it heals, if you still need treatment, they place a catheter directly into your chest. It sounds terrifying — and honestly, it is — but it comes with one big advantage: no needles. No searching. No guessing.
But the disadvantages are real:
No true showers.
No getting the site wet.
Constant cleaning.
Constant worry about infection.
So how do you learn to hit a moving target with a large‑bore needle?Patience. Practice. Perseverance.I missed a lot in the beginning. I even had to skip treatments because I just couldn’t get the fistula. The first six months were the hardest. No matter how good your training is, no matter how skilled your nurse is — you will miss.
And that’s okay.
You keep trying.
You keep learning.
You keep showing up.
You can do this!
All those early struggles — the misses, the skipped treatments, the frustration, the learning curve — they taught me something important: I can endure more than I ever imagined. I’ve fought too hard, come too far, and survived too many “try again” moments to stop now.And that’s exactly why I won’t give up.
Not on myself.
Not on this journey.
And not on finding the donor who will help me get my life back.My story isn’t finished yet — and I’m not done fighting.
